Fascination
by slightlysickpsycho
Summary: Draco has been watching Ginny from afar since he started at Hogwarts. Because she's a Weasley, he tries to stay away, but eventually, the longing is too much. Mature content in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

"Draco, stand up straight." Lucius tugged irritatingly at the small blonde boy's collar. Draco rolled his eyes and tried to move out of reach of his father's talon-like fingers. He nodded absentmindedly as Lucius listed off the things he was and was not to do while attending Hogwarts while they passed through the barrier. He was stunned by the bustling crowd and the large, brilliant red train. He found a seat in an empty compartment and sat with his forehead pressed against the cool window, watching the chaos of goodbyes. His father was already gone.

Among the throng of bustling students he noticed a girl with brilliant crimson hair and tears in her eyes, pleading anxiously with a woman who was quite obviously her mother. The girl looked to be about Draco's age, perhaps a bit younger, and judging by the crowd of redheads surrounding her, she was probably a Weasley.

_Stay away from the Weasleys, _Father had said, _filthy blood traitors, the whole lot of them. _Draco let out a heavy sigh, knowing he would probably never talk to her if he could help it, even though he wanted to. He had to keep his distance. It was for the best.

He forced himself to look elsewhere, trying to establish which other students were purebloods. Children of muggles were dirty, Father had told him, though Draco had never been able to tell where someone came from until he was told. Maybe the impurity was somewhere deeper, he thought, a place you couldn't get to just talking to someone.

His gaze travelled back to the redheaded girl who was now discreetly dabbing at her cheeks with her sleeves. He wondered if she would see him staring, but noticed she was intensely focused on some scrawny kid with messy black hair. Draco decided he would have to find out what was so interesting about this boy.

His heart sank as he watched the girl say goodbye to her brothers, and they clambered onto the train without her. He wondered how old she was.

It didn't take Draco long to learn to hate the Weasleys. The one in his year was an annoying, hot tempered git, and the twins were utterly unbearable. Starting his first night, Draco was a victim of countless unfortunate occurrences, and Fred and George always looked at smugly, with eyes full of laughter. He knew they were behind it, but no matter how hard he tried, he never caught either in the act.

By the end of his first week, Draco had already had to owl his father for a locking schoolbag and underpants that resisted bunching and shrinking charms. By his second month, he had visited the hospital wing no less than seven times for minor, but excruciatingly embarrassing, conditions.

_Stay away from Weasleys,_ Father had warned, and Draco now knew all too well the validity of that statement.


	2. Chapter 2

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

Ginny was so excited about starting Hogwarts it was hard for her to walk instead of skipping as her parents led her through Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. The bookstore was insanely crowded, and it wasn't long before she found out why. Gilderoy Lockhart stood in amidst a crowd of flustered witches, beaming and signing autographs. His stupidity was so intense it hung like a cloud around his head, but she had to admit, there was just something about blondes…

She turned to face her father just as Harry dumped a load of books in her cauldron. Arthurs normally passive face was contorted with rage as he said something through his teeth to a tall man with pointy features and long, sleek blonde hair. She saw a boy standing behind the man, looking uncomfortable. She couldn't help but appreciate his silvery blonde hair, but was puzzled by the way his mercury gray eyes widened as his father tossed back a book he had plucked from her pile. He looked like he wanted to say something, but let himself be ushered out of the store with a helpless look on his face.

So much happened after that, she didn't give the incident much thought. She learned the man was Lucius Malfoy, a suspected Death Eater (in fact her father couldn't understand why the man wasn't rotting in Azkaban), and the boy was Draco, someone she had heard Ron complain about and the twins plot against.

Draco watched his father slip the small black book into Ginny's text, not knowing what it did but knowing that nothing his father ever gave came without some sort of price, and that the daughter of a sworn enemy would pay dearly if she trusted this object. Draco also knew that openly defying his father was simply not safe. It could result in curses, beatings, or worse. He did not want to find out how patient Lucius was feeling on that particular day.

And so he waited. He hated the Weasleys, but he still worried about what his father may have done. He decided to keep an eye on the girl, and see if anything happened.

For the first few weeks, she seemed to be adapting to Hogwarts very well. She walked through the halls with more confidence than any first year had a right to feel, and beamed radiantly at everyone and everything around her. Draco couldn't put his finger on the day things had started to change, but by the time the Chamber had opened, he noticed she had stopped smiling and walking with her head held high. Ginny had lost weight, and there were bags under her eyes. She was rarely at meals, and did everything she could to avoid conversation. Draco wanted to talk to her, to find out what was wrong, but was terrified that somehow his father would know that he had been associating with the enemy, so he did nothing.

Already, Draco was starting to wonder about the things he had always accepted as fact. Did a child's parents really determine everything about them? He couldn't help but hope, deep down, that he wasn't like his father. And muggles… They seemed harmless enough, but even if they were bad, did that mean their children always were? Wouldn't that make him just like his father? He didn't want to be cold and ruthless, a man who couldn't truly love even his wife or his child.

No matter how much he thought these things, he knew he had to keep them to himself, for his own safety.

Meanwhile, Ginny got thinner and sicker. No one even bothered really trying to talk to her anymore, and he knew that somehow, his father had done this. He wanted to reach out to her, but he just couldn't. Instead he spent his nights wide awake, staring at the hangings and wondering whether she would survive. He thought she must be suffering the effects of some terrible, unspeakable curse.


	3. Chapter 3

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

By the time Draco started his third year, he knew Ginny had to know that his father had been the one to blame for her possession. He wasn't surprised at all when she cornered him on the train, eyes full of anger, still looking nervous, tired, and too thin.

"I know what your father did, Malfoy."

He shrugged. "I'm not my father." he muttered, barely audible.

"What?" The word was spoken through clenched teeth and he didn't dare hope to reason with her.

"Nothing, Weasley. You'll stay away from me if you know what's best."

She looked at him for a long moment, as though seeing him clearly for the first moment, and his heart leapt as his body flooded with hope he refused to acknowledge, but then she simply walked away.

It was harder now, to stop watching her. Ginny never seemed to notice, and when their eyes did meet, she always glared, but still that was something… something to hold onto. He didn't like to think he was interested in anything about her. She was as common as could be, he told herself, redheaded with amber eyes, sun-kissed skin infested with freckles. He tried not to imagine the ones hidden under her clothes.

He had to admit, her skin fascinated him. She always came to Hogwarts a delicious golden color, but by the time spring came, her skin was milky white and those little specks stood out more than ever. Sometimes Draco caught himself wanting to trace a fingertip across the constellations on her cheeks, but he always forced himself to think of other things. He knew there was something on the horizon, something that was bigger than either of them, or both of them, could ever hope to be.

His father never told him just what was going on, but he knew that the future was more unstable now that it had been at any other time in his short life.

Ginny was still distant. It was hard to talk to girls her age, because none of them had seen the things she had, and the older girls she sometimes hung out with never wanted to be seen with her. She was marked now, tainted. She would always be the girl who Voldemort possessed, even though no one dared to speak those words. Her parents had made her see a therapist over the summer, a kind woman with sad eyes who had used Legilimancy with the gentlest touch. Dr. Lucam had wanted her to continue sessions during the school year, but Ginny had refused, knowing that if anyone found out, she would be more isolated than ever. Besides, as hard as Dr. Lucam tried, nothing seemed to help. Therapy was a band-aid; the gaping wound from what she had survived still remained.

It had taken a monumental tantrum to get her parents to see reason- Ginny had spent days locked in her room, refusing to eat before they relented, but in the end, her mother couldn't bear to see her go hungry.

Some nights, Ginny didn't sleep at all. She would wait in bed, staring into the darkness, terrified He would come back to punish her. Other nights, she fell into a coma-like sleep and woke up what felt like seconds later, under the harsh sunlight falling through the dormitory window. Ginny Weasley never dreamed.

She started to feel invisible. The only person who seemed to notice her was Draco Malfoy. Maybe he was angry that the memory of Tom Riddle hadn't killed her. Maybe he even regretted what his father had done. Whatever drew his eyes to her, she caught them at the strangest times, blank, curious, watching. She had barely ever talked to him, yet somehow it felt like he was the only one who would notice if she were to suddenly vanish.

She thought about that a lot- about disappearing. Maybe she would steal a handful of floo powder and escape into the muggle world. There wasn't much worth keeping here. It would be nice for the stares that met her everywhere she went to be curious instead of accusing. She longed to be anonymous. Still, her family loved her fiercely, and she could never bring herself to turn her back on them.

Every day was a battle to survive. Every meal she sat through made her feel like she was on display. Sometimes, those unfathomable gray eyes were the only ones that didn't seem to judge her. She started to wonder about Draco Malfoy.

She couldn't be sure, but she thought he had said on the train that he wasn't like his father. Did that mean he didn't think she was blood traitor filth, that he wanted to be something better than a faceless minion of a man who craved nothing more than power and immortality, no matter the cost?

He didn't seem like his father. Draco was arrogant and nasty, but nothing in the face he showed the world seemed more than surface deep to her. Even though every day presented new evidence that he was scum, she couldn't help but wonder what was really there when all pretenses were stripped away.


	4. Chapter 4

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

A/N: A couple of reviewers pointed out that Ginny's actions in this chapter aren't appropriate considering her age, so I've edited it a bit to make it more realistic.

Draco was shocked during his fourth year when students from other schools came to Hogwarts. By this point he had developed something of a reputation because no girl thus far had been able to capture his interest more than in passing. It seemed like there was some sort of competition among his admirers, but he was indifferent. He tried to approach Ginny on the train, but she was never alone, even though she paid little attention to those who flocked around her.

He knew what she was doing. Everyone else seemed to think she was normal, but Draco knew she was unreachable as ever.

Summer had been hard for Ginny. The concerned speculation of her brothers had been nearly unbearable. They thought she was hopelessly in love with Harry. Honestly, she was just a little nervous in the presence of the boy who was supposed to save the world, but that didn't mean she wanted to _be _with him. She was incomprehensibly grateful for what he had done for her, but that didn't mean she felt any sort of attraction to him. Sometimes he made her a little nervous, but more than anything he was starting to feel like another brother to her.

Still, she could never tell anyone about the stormy gray eyes that haunted her dreams.

Her heart flipped when she saw Draco, but she kept her face stony and unreadable. She knew better than to let herself want him. This was an unreasonable desire, something she must extinguish as soon as she possibly could.

She started spending time with a boy from Durmstrang. She didn't bother remembering his name, and she didn't talk to him much. Mostly, they kissed in deserted hallways and hoped they wouldn't get caught. He had silvery blonde hair and his blue eyes were dull enough to pass for gray. She kissed him in the dark, pushing his hair back with her hands and thinking of someone else.

Draco rarely missed anything. He knew something had changed with Ginny. He saw her arriving late for meals with flushed cheeks and a secret smile. And he was jealous. No matter how hard he tried to think of her as some useless blood traitor, like Father said she was, he couldn't help but stare at the beauty that radiated even through the storm clouds of despair. He wanted to make her feel for him what he felt for her.

But he was still young, and he was stupid. He set his sights on the one person he thought he could use to hurt Ginny most.

Fleur Delacour.

Every boy at Hogwarts wanted her. Hell, the teachers probably did too. She was impossible to resist, and Draco planned on turning her word completely inside out.

Then Ginny would know what she was missing.

Courting Fleur was difficult. The first step was easy- he needed only to ignore her. But the plan itself was insanely complex. He had to run into her regularly, while still seeming uninterested. He had to be everywhere she was before she got there, until she started to wonder if maybe she was following him.

Finally, he had to catch her in the hallways late at night. That part was easy. The girl was in love with the castle, and spent most evenings after curfew creeping through the corridors. Maybe it was awareness of the challenges she would soon face that kept her from sleeping. Draco really didn't care what was going on in her head, as long as he could use her to get to Ginny.

Their first kiss was in a dark hallway. She was walking alone, and gasped when he emerged from the shadows. He pounced on her with rabid hunger, imagining behind closed eyes that it was another girl he attacked.

She tried to push him away, digging flawlessly manicured nails into his flesh, but it only made him kiss her more passionately, and finally she succumbed.

As soon as he felt her kissing back, he pulled away. Through all of the next day, he felt her crystal sapphire eyes on him, wide and innocent, and he ignored her. He studiously avoided staring at Ginny, but knew that she was watching Fleur. The seeds of suspicion had been planted.

The next night, he waited for her where they had kissed, and she didn't let him down. She approached slowly, shyly, and he could smell an aura of perfume that hadn't been there the night before. To Draco, the scent was harsh and fake, nothing like the wildflower smell that surrounded Ginny.

But Ginny was why he was here, so he didn't dwell on Fleur's imperfections. He let their lips clash and limbs intertwine night after night until he was positive everyone knew what had passed between the two. She talked like she thought it was love. Ginny glared at him when she thought he wasn't looking and bumped her shoulder against him as hard as she could every time she passed Draco in the corridors.

Draco decided that Ginny was now sufficiently aware of his desirability. The next day, Fleur caught him kissing a third year Ravenclaw. She never spoke to him again.

Ginny couldn't put her finger on why she hated Fleur, but there was something sinfully intoxicating about watching the ravishing beauty cry over stupid Malfoy.


	5. Chapter 5

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

During the next few months, Ginny and Draco only spoke to each other to occasionally trade insults, though they exchanged dangerous glares at every opportunity.

She told herself that he was up to something, that she only paid attention because it wasn't safe to turn her back on him, but deep down, she knew. She let her relationship with What's-His-Face from Durmstrang fizzle out. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't developing any of the feelings for him that she wanted to have. She broke it off with him completely when he asked her to go to the Yule ball with him.

She ended up going to the ball with Neville instead. He was a sweet boy, and one of the few she could trust to respect her wish to only go as friends. Truth be told, he was looking for an energetic dance partner more than anything else.

The dress her parents sent her was nice, though a bit conservative. After she managed to talk one of the older girls into performing a few alteration spells on it, it actually looked rather good on her. It was silk with a flowing skirt that fluttered around her legs when she walked and left most of her back bare. The color was almost black, but with enough green in it to show off her brilliant copper hair. She spent hours applying makeup and fixing her hair again and again. She wasn't putting this much effort into her appearance for Neville, but she refused to let her thoughts wander in the direction of the real reason she was bothering to attend the event at all.

When she walked in on Neville's arm, her eyes flitted over the crowd, searching for the flash of silvery blonde hair. Malfoy was standing much closer than she had anticipated, and his steel eyes traveled over her appreciatively before his face contorted into a sneer.

"Nice dress, Weasley. Did you have to buy it off a corpse or is your family just not eating this month?"

Her cheeks felt hot, but she held Malfoy's gaze, subtly catching Neville's hand as it moved for his wand.

"Don't. He's not worth it." Ginny muttered, steering him toward the punch. She eyed the departing group of mischievous looking seventh years and took her first sip apprehensively. It tasted a bit different than it had the last few times it had been served with meals, but it didn't taste bad, and as far as she could tell, she was suffering no ill effects. She decided the punch was probably fine.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked, noticing the distant look in her eyes.

"Fantastic. Let's dance." She stuck her cup on a table and pulled him out into the crowd of anxious teens, falling gracefully into step with his flawless movements. She spun in his arms, the faces around them blurring together as curled wisps of fiery hair tickled her face.

Malfoy was dancing with that pug-faced Parkinson girl, who was all legs in her stylish short dress. And there were moments when Ginny's and Draco's partners were perfectly aligned, facing in opposite directions, when mercury and amber eyes met, and just for a second, time would freeze, before the world jerked back into chaotic motion.

Ginny was starting to feel hot and thirsty, so she led Neville back to the punch. Girls were starting to approach him, asking to dance with him, and Ginny urged him to accept their invitations. The punch was rather good, and her legs were getting tired. She sat down at one of the beautifully adorned tables near the dance floor and watched her classmates dance. She tried not to look at Draco. Wanting something she couldn't have wasn't doing her any good.

"Are you having a good time?" Ginny was startled by the boy who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere while she was lost in thought. She tried desperately to remember his name.

"Yeah. The decorations are really nice." He was a Ravenclaw, and she was pretty sure he was in Ron's year. His name started with an M… Mark, Matthew, Mitchell… What was it? She needed to buy herself some time. "I'm going to get more punch. Do you want some?"

"Sure." Annoyingly, he stood to follow her to get it. Her head spun a bit as she stood, and her legs felt strange beneath her. They each took a generously filled cup back to the table. Ginny concentrated on not spilling it as she sat down.

"So, how are your classes going?"

Ginny took a long drink before answering, then gave him a silly grin. "I like Charms. Especially the hexes… What about you, Mitchell?"

"Erm, actually it's Michael. I like Potions, I suppose, but I'm not very fond of Professor Snape."

"Oops! Sorry! I knew your name was something with an M." She lowered her voice, and leaned closer. "I've heard Snape's a vampire." she whispered conspiratorially.

"Um, Ginny?"

"Yes, Mitch-Michael?"

"How much punch have you had?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"I heard some of the seventh years talking about spiking it, and I'm pretty sure they did."

"Oh. _Oh._" Ginny felt herself blushing intensely. "Um, it's been nice talking to you, but I think I should probably get to bed then. Goodnight."

Without waiting for his response, Ginny stood up and left, praying she hadn't embarrassed herself too much.


	6. Chapter 6

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

Mercury eyes flickered to Ginny's table as she stood to leave. She wobbled slightly as she rushed out the door, and Draco couldn't resist following. He looked at Pansy, who was gazing at him with open adoration.

"I just remembered I have to take care of something. Dance with Vincent."

Pansy looked undeniably pissed off as she was foisted into the arms of a surrogate dance partner in front of everyone. Draco didn't care. He walked softly, trying to stop his hard dress shoes from clicking on the stone floor.

If Ginny noticed him following, she did not acknowledge this in any way. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know what to say. His feet hit the ground harder as he hoped she would hear him and start the conversation herself. Finally, she wheeled around to face him.

"Go back to the dance, Malfoy. I'll deal with you in the morning." She pronounced each word carefully, doing her best to hide that she was slurring a little bit.

"No," he said softly, "I don't think I will."

"Please. I can't handle this right now."

"Did the Weasel just say 'please'?"

He saw her hand twitching toward her wand, but she was too slow and he snatched it from her fumbling fingers. Her eyes widened with fear.

"I'm not afraid of you Draco." She said, even as her voice made it clear that she might be.

"Don't worry. I'll give it back. I just won't have you waving that thing around drunk."

"Drunk?"

"Everyone knows the punch was spiked. You'd have to be a complete idiot to not catch on."

Ginny groaned.

"So," he asked, leaning in, "what has you getting wasted at such a tender age?"

"Fuck you, Malfoy. It was an accident. I'm not used to alcohol."

"An accident? Are you really so naive, Weasley? I thought girls like you grow up fast."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know, common, trashy, poor." He let his mouth shape lecherously around each word, and then suddenly his back was slamming against the wall and Ginny was growling in his ear.

"Don't talk, Malfoy. If I hear you talking about me or my family, I'll make you pay, even if I have to tear you limb from limb with my bare hands."

Part of him wanted to laugh. Another part of him was terrified and so turned on he seriously hoped she would back away before brushing against the tangible result of his excitement.

These things happened at the worst times.

He pushed her away. "I'm going to walk you up to the dorm, then you're going to go to sleep, and stop bothering me."

"You followed me!"

"Maybe we just happened to be headed in the same direction."

She punched him in the stomach. His eyes widened with surprise. Her tiny fist had landed with quite a bit of force. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he shouldn't hit girls.

"Oh," she said, suddenly the picture of innocence, "did that hurt?"

"Hands to yourself, Weasley, or I'm getting Snape."

"You _wouldn't!_" she sounded horrified.

"Try me."

"Draco Malfoy, I fucking loathe you."

"Just keep moving toward your dormitory and shut the hell up, please."

"Why did you follow me?"

"I didn't want you causing trouble."

"What do you care if I cause trouble?"

"Please just shut up, Weasley. Are we getting close to your dorm yet?"

"Why were you following me, Malfoy?"

He stopped walking. "You're going to go to bed and forget this happened, Weasley."

"Why?"

"Because you have to." he hissed, furious with her and with their situation.

She was standing so close now she could feel his hot breath stirring the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. Her dark shining eyes followed the movement of his soft pink lips as he spoke, completely hypnotized.

She closed her eyes, and the world felt like it was spinning a little bit. She opened them again and the moonlight in the dim hall suddenly felt a lot brighter.

He saw the look of fierce determination dawning on her face, saw it but couldn't bear to look away, couldn't even force himself to stop her. Her lips were warm and soft and clumsy as they collided with his, and her body pressed up against him sent euphoric lightness through his veins.

He couldn't even shut his eyes when her full pincushion lips pressed against his neck. It was all so overwhelming, and wrong. He had to stop her. She was drunk, probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning. She would spread terrible rumors about him, that he had taken advantage of her. Father would find out and everything would come tumbling down around Draco, his life shattered into neat little pieces.

So that even though he was too young to fully understand the meaning of this decision, he pulled his body away from hers despite the all-encompassing desire to accept her advances.

"Come on," he muttered, "stop it now or you'll hate yourself in the morning."

He led her by the elbow to the entrance to Gryffindor and helped her stumble through the portrait into her common room before turning and running as far away as he could possibly get.


	7. Chapter 7

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

As soon as she had climbed through the portrait hole, Ginny pulled off her shoes and ran up the stairs to her dormitory as fast as she could, praying no one would be in there. Fortunately, it was empty. She clumsily wriggled out of her dress on her way to the bed, leaving it in a heap on the floor and throwing herself through the hangings.

Tears were already spilling down her face as she balled up under the covers, clinging desperately to the faded pink stuffed kneazle no one knew she slept with. How could she have been so stupid? She would have to come to terms with the fact that she wanted something that could never be.

The kiss had been warm and sweet, and while it was happening she almost thought he liked it too, but he had stopped her. The whole school would probably know by morning. Maybe he had followed her just to see if she would do anything amusingly stupid.

Silent sobs shook Ginny's body as she listened to the other girls getting ready for bed, hoping none of them would bother her. She listened to their hushed conversations about the night's events, stomach heavy with dread, waiting for the inevitable mention of the kiss. It never came. Maybe he had gone to bed and the rumor wouldn't take full flight until breakfast.

It took Ginny a long time to fall asleep, and it was almost lunchtime when she finally woke up. Her eyes felt dry and puffy, her head pounded with a dull, persistent ache, and her stomach was doing cartwheels. She slunk into the great hall wearing baggy black sweats with the hood up, hoping no one would notice her. It was tempting to sneak off to the kitchen instead, but she knew she couldn't hide forever and it would be best to just get the messy business of facing her mistake over with.

She walked between the tables treading like she was barefoot on broken glass, but no one seemed to notice her. She was just as invisible as always. Cautiously, she glanced around as she poured herself a glass of juice and took some bread. He really hadn't told anyone! Somehow this was even more alarming. Would he try to blackmail her? What could she possibly have that he would want? Ginny knew Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, could feel him watching her, but she refused to acknowledge him, staring resolutely down at her plate.

Draco couldn't stop stealing glances across the room at Ginny. Why had she kissed him? Was she planning something? Did she remember what happened? She hadn't been at breakfast, and by the way she was curled in on herself now, Draco imagined she was nursing a hangover and battling regret and humiliation. For some reason it bothered him to see her in pain.

She was pale this morning, even more so than usual, picking at a piece of bread and looking tortured. Draco knew this was something best left alone, but he felt intensely curious about the nature of her distress. Was she upset about getting drunk, or kissing him, or about something else entirely?

He took a sip of coffee. He hadn't slept well at all. He'd sat on top of the covers with his hangings closed, staring into the darkness and feeling profoundly confused, because the feeling of Ginny Weasley's body against his had done unimaginable things to him, things that made him question everything he knew.

She approached him after the meal.

"What do you want from me?" Ginny's voice was hollow. She looked exhausted.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, thinking he'd like to ask her the same thing. Girls like her never kissed men like him without ulterior motive. Hell, as far as Draco knew, girls like Ginny Weasley never kissed guys like him, _period_. She was too pure and wholesome to be slumming with the son of a Death Eater. It had to have been a mistake.

Amber eyes narrowed. "You know what I mean, Malfoy. You're not one to keep his mouth shut without a price."

"I'll let you know when I decide on the price."

The sharpness of his voice made her head throb, which made him cringe. He sighed.

"I can give you something for that hangover, Weasley."

Ginny tried to sound aloof despite the throbbing in her temples. "What makes you think I'm hung over?"

He smirked. Damn him for knowing.

"Okay, what's the catch?"

"Tell me why you kissed me."

"Ugh. Really, Malfoy?" They stood a few feet apart, almost circling one another while simultaneously shooting glances down the hallway to make sure no one would catch them talking.

"You have to be in class in…" he pulled up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a rather intricate looking watch "twenty minutes. Do you want the potion or not?"

"Why should I believe you even have it?" He rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I kissed you because I was drunk."

"I've been drunk plenty of times but I haven't kissed any Gryffindors."

"My head hurts too much for this. Can't you give me the potion before I answer?"

"Do you think I carry it with me at all times? I have to get it out of my room."

"Fine, let's go." Pale cheeks took on a slight pink tinge as Ginny grabbed Draco's wrist, pulling him in the direction of the dungeons.

"Tell me on the way. You're not getting anything until I know what you're playing at."

"Is it that hard to believe that it was just a mistake?" Draco ignored the odd sinking feeling he felt when she said the word 'mistake'.

"You had to have a reason."

She sighed. "I wanted to. You're arrogant and hateful and nasty, but sometimes you just get this look in your eyes that makes me want to know what you're thinking. I kissed you because I thought maybe it would help me understand, though for the life of me I can't figure out why I would care to begin with."

"Wait here. I don't need to be seen with you." She huffed and leaned against the cool wall in an alcove as he strode down the hall to the portrait guarding his dorms.


	8. Chapter 8

This story is for _anne-writes_.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the books.

Draco was back with the hangover potion faster than Ginny expected, and she swallowed it with a grateful moan. It tasted awful, but she could already feel the calm washing through her body.

"Thanks, Malfoy." She started to walk away, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her and she spun to face him. "What do you want?"

"What the hell happened?"

"It doesn't matter. I've never been drunk before. It was nothing."

The last word hit him like a knife in his gut, but the cool detached sneer never left his face. He had worn it like a mask for longer than he could remember, a barrier protecting him from the fucked up, confusing world. He was so used to it now, he didn't know if his real face was still there underneath, or if removing his mask would reveal nothing more than a gaping blackness. The shuffle of feet and mutter of voices echoing through the hall alerted him to the approach of others. He silently chastised himself for letting his guard down, for not hearing the stumbling hoard of his classmates nearing sooner.

If there was one thing Draco knew about self-preservation, it was that hesitation could be deadly. He pulled Ginny into the nearest cupboard, pushing his palm hard against her mouth until he'd cast a silencing spell around them. He looked at her, expecting to see terror, rage, and confusion, but instead faced eyes that burned with annoyance and, if he wasn't mistaken, amusement.

"Malfoy, I have to get to class."

"Then answer me fast. Why did you kiss me?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, which Draco barely saw in the dark closet. "I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time. I was drunk, remember? From what I hear, these things happen"

"Kissing someone you don't loathe happens. If you were so bent on getting some action, why didn't you throw yourself at Potter or Longbottom?"

"Harry? HARRY?" Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. Not you too."

"So you don't want to marry him and have a dozen of his precious savior babies and live happily ever after?"

"You make me sick."

"Is that why you kissed me?"

_**SMACK!**_

Ginny found the sound of her palm colliding with his cheek rather satisfying. A low, almost feral growl hummed in Draco's chest and suddenly Ginny found herself pinned to the wall, his rough tongue forcing her lips apart to plunder her silky mouth. She shoved him away, hard.

"Bastard!"

"What the hell is your problem, woman?"

"I don't have time for this. I'm late for class."

She pushed past him and stormed through the halls, somehow managing to look fierce and vulnerable at the same time. Draco slipped into the buzzing mass of students, pale fingers incredulously caressing his pink-tinged, still stinging cheek.

They didn't speak again for days. Draco didn't know if she was deliberately avoiding him, or simply wrapped up in other things. He had to give the girl credit; her mask was almost as impenetrable as his own.

Meanwhile the tiny sparks that had drifted threateningly through Draco's mind since he first glimpsed Ginny on the platform had found their place and ignited a roaring fire that drowned out almost all else. Rage, passion, longing, he didn't know what it was, nor did he care. Father had spoken to him of women; of games and of conquests, how a gentleman must always keep the upper hand, but Draco, who had always been unreasonably bright, knew now he was unequivocally out of his depth.

Ginny was a wildflower. Low, common, flush with lurid covers. Her beauty, no matter how intoxicating, had risen from poverty and filth. The bright petals that never seemed to wilt were somehow sinful and unclean. Draco knew what was expected of him. He was to pluck a delicate posy whose anemic petals faltered in the sun, to hold in his hand, a meaningless accessory to perfect his image. The frailness of his chosen bride would make him look more powerful still by contrast.

His eyes lingered on her only when he was sure there were no witnesses, and she continued to play the part of a giggly and inane teen girl, whose deepest concerns were the pimple on her chin and whether she'd pass charms. A respectable mask, indeed. When he stood, brooding with his back pressed against the stone wall, he couldn't help but suck in her heady scent as she walked past, by sheer coincidence, of course.

It was during one of these unforgivably weak moments that Severus Snape suddenly appeared before him.

"Mister Malfoy, a word in my office if you will."

Draco's sneering mask betrayed the slightest petulant pout. "If you insist, Sir." Arguing with the man was useless, and he followed Severus briskly through the halls, finding the ominous billowing of the man's large black cloak comforting. The large door of the office slammed and within seconds coal black eyes were staring down at Draco, the Potion Master's tall slender form looming so close his heavy cloaks almost brushed Draco's chest.

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?"

"Let's dispense with the formalities, Draco. We both know you are out of your depth. Your father is not a reasonable man, nor is he forgiving." Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Severus raised a hand to silence him. "No, Draco, I am not interested in the nature of your relationship with Miss Weasley, but I am aware that it's dangerously close to drawing the notice of your classmates. Whatever has happened, or is happening, must stop now. This is a matter of survival, Draco. There are forces in play now that are more momentous than you or I can comprehend. This foolishness has to end. Forget Miss Weasley. You must trust me when I tell you that now, and in the years to come, you must maintain your distance from others, and let no one see past your facade. Your very life depends upon it."

Draco glared at Snape for a long moment before crashing through the heavy hardwood door and running through the empty halls, down an abandoned corridor, and up a spiral staircase carpeted in dust, where he punched the unforgiving stone wall until his hands bled, still unsure why Ginny mattered to him in the least.


End file.
